Archive | October 14, 2015

David and Karolina Morgan have the perfect marriage. He runs a financial empire catering to Miami’s most influential and she is the darling socialite, adored by her husband and all those that meet her.

But underneath the lavish home, expensive car and exquisite jewelry lies a darkness threatening to consume Karolina. The once vivacious fashion design student has become a shadow of herself at the hands of her manipulative husband.

Then, with the flick of a power switch, everything changes. Karolina must learn to fight back when she discovers her entire existence is one big sham, with dire consequences.

Tutu. Baby’s Breath. Angelic Musings. Three very different names describing the same thing: a delicate pink varnish that covers my fingernails. Every Monday I have a standing manicure appointment at Breeze. The manicurist, Meryl, and I play the same game. Perched on a black stool, Meryl clucks over my cuticles and then asks, “How about red today? Goes well with your skin tone.” Pretending to ponder Meryl’s suggestion, I gently retract my hands to tug off my engagement ring and wedding band. “Red would match with a gown I’m wearing to a gala next week, maybe we’ll try it then.” But I never switch my request. Pale, newborn baby girl pink adorns my fingernails week in and week out.

Just once I’d like to try something brash like fire-engine or tangerine. However I’ve learned those colors are garish and considered inappropriate by reigning queens of Miami high society. Heaven forbid I make waves.

With a flick or his elegant wrist, David fills the cabin the luxury sedan with the classical music he prefers. Not a single strand of his hair falls out of place. The crisp corners of his heavily starched white shirt peek out from the edge of a black tuxedo jacket sleeve. David’s initials, DM, are stitched on the French cuffs, parallel to the cufflinks he purchased on a trip to the South of France. Every angle on David seems to be chiseled from the image of wealth and sophistication: classic bow-shaped mouth, straight, high-bridged nose and thick lashes framing his ocean eyes. There are no visible imperfections in his appearance. But I know a secret. If it weren’t for the colorist who visits our home each month, flecks of gray would show at David’s temples.

“That dress you’re wearing was quite the sensation.” The aristocratic timbre of his voice works well in seducing potential clients. David Morgan is the driving force being Morgan Financial, a financial planning service catering to Miami’s elite. In a way, the smoothness in David’s voice was one of the first things that drew me to him, too.

David knows exactly how to charm his prey. Complimenting one of my original designs is my biggest weakness. Under his praise, my shoulders straighten. Despite everything, I still blossom under a compliment from David.

All my life I wanted to create beautiful garments. Worked tirelessly in high school to get good grades and earn a scholarship to college. Slung burgers at a fast food restaurant for extra money. Then I got my prize: a partial scholarship to study fashion at the Miami Design Institute. Finally, I went after my dream of becoming the next Coco Chanel.

Life has a heartbreaking way of uprooting dreams, though.

Instead of producing fashion for Bryant Park in New York City, I’ve been relegated to a studio in my home. It’s not so bad, designing for myself. There’s no pressure to please anyone other than my own critical eye. Although my designs aren’t known on the national level, I am able to showcase some of my wears at society events. This evening I’m wearing a gown that took me a month to create – after the initial conception. Silk. Deep plum twisted bodice and a slit in the A-line skirt to allow a large enough range of motion for dancing. It elongates my lean form, displays feminine curves without being overtly seductive.

“Adriana Martinez would like to commission a gown for an inaugural ball,” I murmur. Like my husband, I’ve trained my voice to be gentle, never jarring.

David’s carefully styled eyebrows lift a centimeter – the barest hint of surprise. Adriana is married to Hector Martinez, the king of a real estate empire stretching from Key West to West Palm Beach County. Along with his wife, Hector can be found at every charity gala, important political function and any other events deemed important by Miami society. Now that the former governor of Florida was elected President of the United States, the financially influential Martinez couple will make their move toward Washington, DC. They were big donors to the president-elect’s campaign. Seven figure donors. Adriana wearing one of my original designs to an inaugural event could be a huge coup for what David calls my little hobby.

“Is that so,” David drawls.

“Adriana will be photographed for magazines and blogs. The exposure could do well for Morgan Financial.” Bravely I lift my gaze to David who stares at me impassively. His emotions are getting harder and harder to read with age.

“Hm. Morgan Financial would be a secondary beneficiary. Your design would be the shining star.” David shifts smoothly in the cream leather seat, now one eyebrow cocked in my direction. My heart thuds in my chest. Is he angry because, for once, a sliver of the spotlight may shine on me? “No matter. Let’s see if you can get yourself invited over to the Martinez compound. You’ll present the idea of a couples dinner at our home.”

“Certainly,” I agree. David doesn’t have to convince me on this point. Adriana is one of the most tolerable people David strongly encourages me to engage with socially.

David’s expression doesn’t betray any underlying irritation that Adriana may garner interest in my work. The tension in my chest abates and I sink further into my seat, good posture be damned. David reaches across the armrest dividing the backseat of the car, places a hand on my forearm. “Soon you’ll be receiving requests from all over South Florida. My wife, the fashion designer.” His lips flicker upward as though the prospect amuses him. “I support it, so long as your career doesn’t eclipse the time we spend together.”

“No, of course not.”

The diamond tennis bracelet clasped around my wrist pinches my skin, drawing my attention to the glimmering jewelry. David slips two fingers between my skin and the stones, stroking the delicate skin there.

“It was right before we were married. You had the wedding planner deliver it to the bridal suite with a note.” Briefly, my eyes shut as I remember the emotions of our wedding day five years ago. Heady anticipation coursed through my veins that day. Never in my life had I known that type of excitement. I blink my eyes open and find David watching me raptly. A stoic mask conceals whatever he remembers of our wedding. Forcing myself to smile, I tug his hand to my chest where my heart rate has slowed to a gentle cadence.

“At the time, this bracelet was the most magnificent gift I had ever received. You’ve managed to outdo yourself dozens of times over.” I allow my expression to soften. “No one spoils me like you do, David.”

A cloud of Armani cologne wafts around me as David leans closer. He releases my hand, only to drag his fingertips along my cheek. David presses his warm lips against mine in a short kiss. “You’re the one who spoils me,” he croons.

It happens when David shifts back into his corner of the car, so quickly I’m sure he doesn’t think I notice. But I see it. David’s eyes flicker to the driver, making sure that he’s watching the show. If I’ve learned anything in the five years I’ve been married to David Morgan, it’s that appearances are of the utmost importance.

Olivia Luck lives in the middle of America with her loving husband and her obsession with writing. She wrote her first romance novel at age eight. When she’s not reading, editing, or writing, you can find her in the kitchen learning to cook. Olivia loves to travel and spend time with her family.

Get in touch with Olivia, she adores emails: olivialuckauthor@gmail.com

For Jamie Stewart-Greer, BDSM is the perfect way to release the darkness inside him and use it for pleasure. But it’s getting more difficult to hide this side of himself—especially from the one person who elicits his most extreme, secret passions.

When his best friend died, Jamie promised he’d watch over his little sister, Summer Grace. Summer is a nearly irresistible sex kitten who’s been after Jamie since she was fourteen—and she’s absolutely taboo. But now she’s hunting him in his territory—the Bastille, New Orleans’ most infamous BDSM club—and Jamie knows he’s in trouble.

Summer is more than ready to indulge Jamie’s secret kinks, and as their relationship spirals into the darkest recesses of absolute pleasure, it only stirs her desire for more. If Jamie is willing to give Summer what she wants, it’s going to turn love into the most dangerous fetish of all.

Mature Audience

Summer went hot and loose all over as she watched the change come over his face, his eyes glinting a hard, glassy green, almost as if they were lit from within. There was fire there. And stark command. And Jesus, it was Jamie looking at her like he was going to eat her alive.

He kissed her again, and it was all hunger and need and hurting, he kissed her so damn hard. It was everything she’d ever needed. Her body surged against his, everything just out of control. She couldn’t think. It was as if he’d shocked her senseless, and all she knew was his hot tongue in her mouth, the flavor of him, the scents of something dark—sandalwood or patchouli mixed with a little motor oil—and all of it so deliciously male she never wanted to stop breathing him in. She was soaking wet simply from kissing him, from feeling the authority in the way he held her.

You are in big trouble.

She didn’t care.

“Your bedroom,” he muttered from between clenched teeth.

Somehow she stumbled into the house. He was right behind her, holding her wrist hard at the small of her back, his body tight against hers, kissing and biting her shoulder as they moved into the bedroom. He whirled her body in his arms, everything happening so fast she had no time to think. He stripped her nightie off and it fell around her feet, leaving her naked. Then he took a step back and tore his shirt over his head.

“Oh . . .” It came out on a sigh of pure, burning desire.

His body was amazing. Broad shoulders, muscular chest. The washboard abs, the narrow waist. Even his tattoo was sexy—she’d always found tattoos sexy—the words memento mortalitatem tuam, Latin for “remember your mortality,” she knew, tattooed in a line down his ribs on his right side in bold calligraphic script. And oh, God, when had he gotten his nipples pierced? The two small, steel rings made her want to curl her tongue around them.

Her gaze flicked up to his, then down again as she heard him unbutton his jeans, the quiet snick of the zipper coming down. The fact that he wore nothing underneath made her sex clench. But he kept the damn jeans on, the solid ridge of his hard cock hidden beneath the worn denim, tempting her. She could hardly stand it.

She licked her lips. “Jamie—”

“Shh, Summer Grace. I need you to be quiet now, sugar. No discussion. Because now isn’t the time to negotiate and I am going to have to rein myself in to keep things under control.”

“Don’t, Jamie. We don’t need control.”

He stepped forward and slid his hand around her neck. She gasped in pleasure, felt his fingers flex in response.

“Yes we damn well do, sweetheart. No arguments. Just fucking kiss me, girl.”

She sighed through the slight constriction of her throat, loving the way he held her at that edge as she tilted her chin and his mouth closed over hers. She opened to his searching tongue, losing herself in the sweetness of his mouth. In his utter command.

When he pulled away, she was panting.

“Right now you are mine,” he whispered against her cheek, his hand still on her throat, his breath warm on her skin.

“Yes,” she murmured.

Her body already belonged to him. She couldn’t think of anything else at that moment but the desire—the need—coursing through her flesh, taking her over. He was taking her over. If he didn’t really touch her she was going to explode.

With his hand wrapped around her neck using only the slightest pressure, he backed her up step by step until she felt the mattress behind her legs.

“Down you go, now,” he said, his tone quiet. He was so damn commanding he didn’t need to use a harsh tone, a raised voice. She’d imagined a thousand times what being with him would be like—and, as she’d gotten older and discovered her desire for kink, what being dominated by him would be like. But never had she imagined it being this good. This natural.

He exerted the tiniest bit of pressure, guiding her to sit on the bed, her damp thighs hitting the cool sheets.

He leaned over her, clamping his hand a bit tighter. “This time, Summer Grace,” he told her, “it’s just gonna be you and me and the tiniest edge of kink. Because I fucking need you right now. Do you understand? Later, if you want to, we can do full negotiations. But I have to admit I am in no shape to do that. And judging by your eyes, your breath, your silence, by how beautifully hard your nipples are, neither are you, sweetheart. So tell me again. Is this still a ‘yes’?”

“Oh yes,” she breathed, the words whispering on a long sigh. There was no other possible answer.

He smiled, his dimples making small, charming divots in his cheeks, and she had a flash of Jamie at sixteen. That was when she’d first fallen for him. It had only taken fourteen years to get to this point. Fourteen years and her decision to finally end her pursuit of him. But he was right in front of her and she was naked and he was touching her—had kissed her! The kissing was a revelation in itself, the flavor of him still warm on her tongue. The answer had to be yes.

He kept his gaze on hers as he slid his hand down and his fingers bore down on the tender pressure points just below her collarbone, hurting her the tiniest bit. Letting her know his power, that he understood very thoroughly how to cause pain with the simplest touch. Then he moved a bit lower, between her breasts, pressed down, making a small hurting spot deep in her flesh. She sighed into the pain, needing to be touched. Needing to feel that little bit of pain. Needing Jamie. As if he heard her need, he gathered both breasts in his hands, kneading gently, his thumbs teasing her nipples, and pleasure arced into her like an electric current. He pinched one nipple and she gasped.

“Oh!”

“You like that, do you, sugar? Oh yeah, I can tell you do. No, no. Hold still for me.”

He pinched again and she had to bite her lip not to move. It felt so good.

“I can see how hard you’re trying. Good girl. Now try harder.”

He pinched her again, both nipples this time, and she cried out.

“Ah, God!”

“Still,” he ordered.

To her surprise he leaned down and pressed his lips in that space between her breasts where he’d dug into the pressure point there. She let her head fall back with a sigh of pure pleasure. The contrast of sensations was making her head spin. He was making her head spin. That little bit of mind fuck and the fact that it was Jamie. That fact was mind fuck in itself.

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author Eden Bradley aka Eve Berlin writes dark, edgy erotic fiction. Her work has been called ‘elegant, intelligent and sensual’. Her debut novel, THE DARK GARDEN, has been praised as ‘a masterpiece’, and was a Romantic Times Top Pick. Her novels and novellas have been translated into German, Romanian, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Czech, Polish and Japanese.

As someone who has been involved in BDSM practice for much of her adult life, she relates in particular to her kink stories, infusing them with her own truth about kink practice from her life experiences. Eden speaks regularly on BDSM psychology and practice, as well as sex positive culture for women.

Kaitlin Grant lost her spine. She isn’t a slug—but her abusive ex-lover and business partner is. Broken and bruised, she escapes to the safe haven of Connor, Iowa, to resurrect her self-confidence. But Kaitlin doesn’t anticipate the potent electricity still sizzling between her and Sky Whitefeather—the swarthy Native American man she left years ago.

Returning home from Iraq with a daughter and an unforgivable secret, Sky tries to bury the past, until Katie—the girl who annihilated his heart, returns to town. The irresistible woman stirs up emotions he longs to forget and rekindles desires that might burn him alive.

Can new love grow from the ashes of their past, or will a trail of death and betrayal destroy their dreams?

The sound of churning gravel and the purr of a car engine drew Sky’s attention to the road. A silver Jag slowed to a stop in front of Gran’s. His heart clutched in his chest, air stilled in his lungs.Katie.
He didn’t need to see the shimmer of her glossy auburn hair reflecting in the setting sun to recognize her. The blistering pull of every cell in his body and the rush of conflicting emotions rolling through him were proof enough. Anger, desire, sadness, and rejection brought with them a sting that burned the backs of his eyes. Forcing down the lump of emotion clogging his throat, Sky tried to tamp down the familiar vibration humming through his body. A part of him wanted to whoop for joy before yanking Katie into his arms kissing her senseless. Another part of him wanted to forget she even existed…wipe away the ball-churning memories that flooded his brain, and focus on the hurt and anger he felt when Gran broke the news, Katie had left. Yet, all he could think about was touching her, kissing her, holding her in his arms, before he dragged her beneath him.
Skimming a cursory glance over the ridiculously expensive sports car, Sky’s shoulders sagged. Katie had achieved her dreams all right, it was staring him in the face, sending feelings of inadequacy deep into his bones. He hadn’t had a damn thing to offer her at eighteen; he sure as hell didn’t now. Sky couldn’t compete with the riches she’d apparently become accustomed to. It didn’t take a genius to see he could only rate as a long lost lover. Reality stung, like a slap to the face.
Katie had ripped his heart out and stomped it to shit—a fact he’d do well to remember. But it didn’t erase the desire to love her again, or the growing need inside his jeans. Disgusted by his traitorous libido, her return only served to make him pick at the scabs of the past, and douse them in salt water. Sky clenched his jaw.
“Looks like you got everything you wanted, Katie,” he mumbled with disdain. “I’m sure you’re happy now.”
No sooner had the words rolled off his tongue than the sounds of gut-wrenching sobs filled his ears.What the hell?
Tossing down the shovel, Sky mopped the sweat off his face before storming toward the Jag. Katie’s sobs grew louder and more pitiful. Like fine crystal, the flimsy barrier he’d erected around his heart, began to crack, splinter, and finally shatter. Standing next to the open window, Sky watched tears drip from beneath her shroud of silky, red hair. The waning sun reflected in each drop, casting them in a shimmer of gold, as they spilled onto Katie’s lap.
His guts and heart clenched in tandem. Sky had only seen Katie cry once: the first time they made love; those had been tears of joy. There wasn’t an ounce of happiness in the guttural sobs ringing in his ears. What the hell had happened to her? This wasn’t the strong, resilient woman he’d once loved. Seeing Katie in the throes of such brutal sorrow gutted him.
In an instant, his heart caught fire with the need to protect: burning away the poisonous animosity he’d felt moments ago. Instantly, flames of love reignited—the powerful kind they’d once shared—and Sky only wanted to scoop her into his arms so he could comfort and slay the demons causing her this pain.

Bestselling author, Jenna Jacob paints a canvas of passion, romance, and humor as her Alpha men and the feisty women who love them unravel their souls, heal their scars, to find their happily ever after kind of love. Heart-tugging, captivating, and steamy, Jenna’s books will surely leave you breathless and craving more.

A mom of four grown children, Jenna and her Alpha-Hunk-husband live in Kansas. A lover of books, Harleys, music, and camping, Jenna’s zany sense of humor and lack of filter exemplify her motto: Live. Laugh. Love.

Let Jenna introduce you to her wild and wicked family in her sultry series: The Doms of Genesis. Or become spellbound by the searing love connection between Raine, Hammer, and Liam in her continuing saga: The Doms of Her Life (co-written with the amazing Shayla Black and Isabella La Pearl). Journey with couples struggling to resolve their pasts and heal their scars, to discover unbridled love and devotion in Jenna’s new contemporary series: Passionate Hearts.

If a little trouble only makes for a good time, Kate and Kai should be having a blast . . .

Kate Saunders didn’t believe in happy endings, especially after finding her fiancé between another woman’s thighs. So when she met Kai, she was sure he’d be nothing more than a hot one night stand. Charismatic, dominant and dirty mouthed, Kai wasn’t supposed to be her Prince Charming. Maybe more her Mr Right Now. Against her better instincts, she’d fallen in love.

Kai makes a little wrong look a whole lot of right, but he’s learning that good looks, charm and a talented tongue don’t always get you what you want. Wealth, privilege and family are sometimes their own bonds. It’s not a forbidden love, but it’s a troubled one. One that might force Kai to reveal his not so pretty side . . .

Join Kate and Kai in Australia as they embark on the final leg of their journey in the heart-pounding, seat squirming, and hilarious conclusion to the trilogy. Lies, secrets and shocking truths will be revealed as they discover the destination isn’t always the most important part of the journey. Sometimes the best bits are just where you get off.

My breath halts as he moves my underwear aside, his fingers dipping into my wetness and parting me. His mouth is like an arrow, and my centre its bullseye; one brush of his tongue against the swollen point of my clit and I’m ready to come undone, almost immediately.

Soft words blow over my heated centre as he whispers how good I look, splayed out, all twisted with need. How delicious I taste. How he can’t wait for me to come on his tongue.

Kai slides my legs wide as he lifts me to straddle him, my hand slipping between our bodies to direct my descent. His eyes close as my body accepts him, and as he fills me, my moan is long and soft, as though the presence of him inside has expelled all the air from my chest. Kai’s hands are against my hips and he’s completely still, his expression one of agony and ecstasy: a look that’s almost bittersweet.

5 HOT Stars
Ooh la la! I have been dying to read this book and I was not disappointed. I was so excited to be sitting reading this book. This is book 3 in The Pretty Trilogy and a definite must read. ~ Goodreads Review

What I love about all three books is the way the author writes. You get the feel of the lifestyle and wealth, the exotic location(s) and the characters created. The Epilogue is perfect for Kai and Kate and I am hoping it is not the last we see of them as I am sure there is more to tell. ~ Goodreads Review

This is one thing I look for in a book. I want to be spellbound. I want to sink my teeth into the characters & take myself into their world. To feel this kind of emotion is phenomenal & not something I can feel with every book I read. The author did that with the 3 books in this trilogy. I look forward to future books by this author. ~ Goodreads Review

Giveaway

There will be lots of giveaway’s over the next month be sure not to miss it:

❤ Pretty Things Giveaway ❤ Tomorrow brings the release of the final book in the Pretty Trilogy – Pretty…

Donna Alam writes about exotic locations and the men you aren’t married to, but wish you were. Escapism reads with heart and humour and, of course, plenty of steam.

Hailing from the North of England, she’s a nomad at heart moving houses and continents more times than she cares to recall. She once worked at a school like the one described in her Pretty Trilogy. Alas, there were no handsome male protagonists hanging around there.

An Eclectic reader and part-time perv, she’s a huge fan of smart men, as well as protagonists with a fair measure of inappropriateness.

Olivia isn’t making it in Hollywood like she thought she would. She would go back home if she knew her father wouldn’t say, “I told you so.” Her two roommates are doing fine with their acting careers and they expect her to pay her share of the rents. So after she can’t find a job she gets hired at a place that she would never admit to anyone.

Billionaire Tristan Davis just got a divorce so how does he deal with it? His favorite underground club where pleasures could be paid for. That’s where he meets Olivia. She’s gorgeous and he can control her however he likes. But when his secrets are revealed will she not want to be around him like everyone else in his life?